


Bite Night

by RavensKey



Series: Standalones [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Other supernatural beings, POV First Person, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 12:41:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17162183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavensKey/pseuds/RavensKey
Summary: Vampires. Werewolves. Other miscellaneous non-humans. And romance. Just what is the attraction? Oh, right, I forgot…only 90% of the Teen/YA fantasy novels available. Ha, ha, bloody ha! I wish it was that easy.





	Bite Night

**Author's Note:**

> Copyright © 2018 RavensKey  
> All rights reserved

“You are my life now.”

Oh. My. God. Now don’t get me wrong here. Stephenie Meyer was obviously extremely popular, her works basically started the whole vampire craze, and I’m no literary critic. I am someone with more knowledge about vampires than how to work my laptop though – clearly, Meyer is not. Why am I reading Twilight in the first place? Because I was told that anyone who likes vampires should read it, that alone should have pinged my alarm. No one who’s ever seen a real vampire points at a romance novel, generally they’re either dead, scarred (like me), or non-human, and more inclined to point at items in the horror genre.

See, vampires aren’t smoking hot, eternally teenaged guys. Meyer got it wrong, and so did people like Ann Rice, Charlene Harris and even Bram Stoker. Yes, even him. Why? Contrary to popular belief vampires are less “people that drink blood” and more “obligate carnivore that happens to be bipedal and less furry than say, a lion”. Sure they can talk, hold a conversation, wear clothes etc. but an attacking vampire will come at their prey from behind, close a mouthful of inch long fangs around said victim’s spine, and break it. They will not wander up to a girl in an alleyway and start smooth talking her and snogging. And if I see one more description of pointed, needle-like canines I will scream. Think crocodile teeth on a human mouth scale not little snake fangs, snake bites are nasty, painful, and if a venomous snake potentially deadly but I don’t really rate them on the same level as a croc. Ditto with vamps.

Hold a sec. My phone’s ringing.

‘Hello, who is this?’ sue me, I’m blunt – also I never check the caller.

A familiar sigh answers my question, ‘It’s Maya, you idiot. Anyway Rhiona, you’re needed. Usual haunt behind the club, clean up as always. Why the ‘chanters can never do it themselves I’ve yet to find out!’

Maya is a long-time friend of mine from way before either of us knew about the nasties that run around at night killing people and “chanters” is short for enchanters aka the only non-humans that think on the same level as humanity. Clean up is exactly what it sounds like – my night job is disposing of corpses, utterly charming, the jab at the enchanters is because they could do the job in under 30 seconds but are too snobby to perform such menial tasks.

‘Gotcha, I’ll be there in 10’, I hang up before Maya responds. She’s well used to that. Now it’s time to see how many bodies I’ll be scraping up which is generally a test to see how long I can go without vomiting after which the job gets passed along to the next poor sod on the list. For clarification: the list is super short.

To put into perspective I live in London, capital of the UK. Depending on what number you use there are about 10 million people here – approximately 20 thousand of those are in the know about non-humans. That’s only 0.0002% of us. In my little neighbourhood, there are 5: Me, Maya, Daniel, Emma, and Richard. Emma and Dan work the day shift dealing with the less animalistic but more powerful lot who generally clean up after themselves but cause way bigger problems than simple murder. That leaves me, Maya and Richard, as the corpse crew because the vamps and weres don’t cause loads of hassle…aside from the bodies which can’t be helped since that’s what they eat. This may sound cold but really it’s no different from humans eating beef. It can’t even be called cannibalism because vamps and weres aren’t human, and most of them never were.

Before I can go and help there are a few things I have to do. Donning latex gloves and a face mask are top of the list mainly due to the fact that “supernatural body disposer” is not a real job and what I’m about to do is actually illegal. I also make sure I’m wearing nondescript clothing, and pack a meat cleaver and a lot of bin bags, three guesses what those are for and the first two don’t count.

The short distance and the need for anonymity mean that I walk to the club rather than risk someone seeing my car’s licence plate and wondering what the local council office’s secretary is doing pocking about in the middle of the night. With my hood up and putting a deliberate swagger into my walk I can pass as one of the “lads” that like to strut around thinking they’re invincible and by the time I’m on my way back even the most ardent night owls tend to be asleep, and by that point I’d have far bigger problems than someone recognising me.

‘Rhiona! Thank god you’re here’, Maya rushes over to me, ‘Nobody’s called the police yet but we haven’t got much time. Fortunately for us, there isn’t much left of the bodies so I imagine that’s our entire population of vamps fed for now with quite a bit taken home for later.’

‘Good, hopefully, that means we won’t be doing this again for a while’, I sighed, ‘How many people were killed and how likely is it that they’ll be reported missing?’ Very occasionally we’ll be lucky and the victims aren’t reported to the police for whatever reason be they homeless, illegal immigrates or something else. A bit of a depressing show on the state of society but it does come in handy.

Maya’s grimace tells me that there’s no such luck tonight, ‘Seven dead, all very young too, ranging from about early twenties to barely 13/14. As I said good luck identifying any of them because the vamps didn’t leave much behind – I doubt you’ll need that clever for a start.’

My stomach lurched ominously. It’s not a good sign when I want to vomit before I’ve set eyes on the scene but with kids that young…there’s no good way to face it. The last thing I wanted to dwell on was the poor families but there was no way they wouldn’t notice the disappearances, our quite cover up or not. If anything not knowing what had happened might be worse. Still, I had a job and keeping the majority of the human population ignorant was a big part of it. Didn’t mean I had to like it though.


End file.
